Such A Small Thing
by Alkuna
Summary: The Dovahkiin has done many things since coming to Skyrim... dark things... hard things... many that she would not admit to. However, when the black furred Khajiit comes across a small child, something shifts.


It was such a small thing, really. That one word. Amidst all the death, the fighting, the destruction, and the fact that she would soon have to slay the mightiest dragon ever beheld… Alduin, the World Eater. Learning that she was the Dragonborn. Learning words… _words_ of all things… that could produce magical and powerful effects. Shooting attacking dragons from the sky, struggling to save the lives of villagers. Retrieving heirlooms from dungeons. Draugrs. Rescuing those taken by bandits. Bringing the sad news that a loved one would never be coming home…

So much in a single lifetime, and yet here was something... someone… who could bring it all to a halt. It was such a small thing, really….

"Would you like to buy some flowers? Please?" The plaintive question had made the Khajiit turn around to look at the owner of that hopeful voice.

A little girl in Windhelm; Sofie. An orphan, living in the streets. Risking life and limb outside the city to pick flowers to sell as Alchemy ingredients, just so that she could eat that day.

"Where are your parents?" Savari's voice was gentle as the dark-furred Khajiit looked down at the little girl clutching a basket under one arm.

"They... they're dead. My Mama died when I was little... I... I don't remember her very well. My father was a Stormcloak soldier. One day, he left and... didn't come back. I'm all alone... I... I try and sell flowers so I can buy food. It's not much but... what else can I do?"

Savari's ears flicked slightly beneath the helmet and her blue eyes narrowed marginally. It was certainly no hardship to buy up the little girl's entire, if pitiful, stock of flowers. And the child's gratitude was genuine. The paltry sum would feed the little girl on little more than bread for a few days, likely stale bread if she tried to make the money stretch.

As the little Nord moved on, the thought rang through the Dragonborn's mind as clear as the howl of an ice wolf: _Bread doesn't last long in the bellies of the hungry. And a child needs more than that to live on._

Savari frowned absently at the now empty alley. Lakeview Manor was nearly complete. Other than the occasional bandit or Giant, the locale was peaceful. Rayya, the Redguard Housecarl and Steward, wandered the property with those two oversized scimitars of hers always within easy reach, so dangers really weren't much of a worry.

With just a bit more furniture in the bedroom extension, the place would certainly be perfect for a child to live in; quite happily in fact.

Her spotted tail flicked, as though to punctuate the decisive nod as she came to her decision. She had food, she had resources, and she most certainly had room. Indeed the house felt empty most of the time.

Her husband, Balimund, merely chuckled when she tentatively brought up the subject. "My love, if your heart is large enough to bring in a child not of your blood, who am I to deny it?"

It took few days of traveling back and forth to Half-Moon Mill and Falkreath to gather the materials. The bed frame had to be carved by hand, and supplies were needed to make it a comfortable place to sleep. Snow dusted her whiskers whenever she left the house, adding a further sense of urgency to her task.

While Nords were acclimated to the weather in this miserably cold land, a child was the most vulnerable. Living in the streets as she was, Sofie could sicken and die quite easily. Even the toughest, most grizzled Nord freely admitted that the land was a hard place to live in, and lives were too often cut short… a point hammered home more often than not on Savari's many quests.

If it wasn't the lower dregs of society out in the wilderness, then it was the wildlife. Each was as opportunistic as the last, and certainly could become more than a match for an unlucky child trying to eke out a living on flowers.

Savari lay her ears back and continued to work on the home with single minded purpose. A comfortable bed, a chest for the girl's possessions, and shelves and wardrobes for clothing.

The Khajiit indulged in a moment of satisfaction as she looked around the room now prepared for its new tenant. Then she spun on her heel and jogged out the door. She barely heard Balimund murmur, "Gods speed."

Many hours later, she wanted to tug her whiskers out. When doing a quick quest in Windhelm, it was in and out without doing much exploring of all the obnoxious little side alleys that this snow rotted city had. Finding one little orphan, wandering the streets, was nearly as annoying as having an idiot citizen as a follower in a tomb.

On the other hand, a wandering orphan didn't shout, "What was that?!" before charging, full tilt, into a room full of hostile undead. Divines have mercy, one incident of _that_ level of heart stopping terror and mind numbing stupidity was more than enough to teach the Dragonborn to enter caves alone.

The sun was going down, and thick, heavy clouds had swept across the sky. Fat flakes of snow were beginning to drift down, and Savari allowed herself a soft but emphatic curse in her native tongue. The storm looked like a bad one. Full on blizzard in fact if the sudden, frigid wind that suddenly whipped through the streets was any indication.

The scuff of small feet made Savari turn quickly, and there... finally… was Sofie.

The little girl's face brightened briefly at the sight of the Khajit, "Oh, hello!" But there was something in her eyes that betrayed the false cheer. At a gentle prod, the girl admitted, "No one bought flowers again today. I… I don't know what to do."

Another gust of wind whipped through the alley, making the girl's meager dress flap. Snow pelted the back of the Khajiit's helmet and the icy temperature cut through her armor and fur, straight to the skin. There was no better time for this.

"I could adopt you," Savari offered warmly, dropping to one knee before the girl so she could look into her eyes.

"Really?" Excitement made the girl's voice hitch, "Do you… do you have a place I could live?"

A smile pulled at Savari's whiskers. "Yes. I have a house called Lakeview Manor, near Falkreath."

"Oh wow!" The girl's eyes lit up at the word 'manor,' and for a moment, it was like the storm had stilled, "Are you… are you sure? You really wouldn't mind?"

The hope in her voice, as well as the hesitation; as though she still expected to be denied; made Savari's heart ache for the girl. How many had brushed her off or rejected her before now? The dark musings of some of the women Savari had encountered seemed to be true; men did fare better in this harsh land.

Well! That didn't matter anymore!

"Yes, I am sure… daughter." There it was. It was such a simple thing. That one word. One word that put wings on a hungry child's heart.

"Yeah! Thanks! I promise I'll be the best daughter ever! I need to get my things and say goodbye to everyone. I'll meet you at home. Thanks! Thanks so much!" The girl raced off before the Dragonborn to offer to wait for the girl to be ready.

Whoever this 'everyone' was, Savari was more than willing to crack them upside the head with her bow for leaving a child in the cold to scrounge out a meager existence. Really… What kind of people were these Nords to have such frozen hearts towards children?

Savari brooded over that thought all the way back to Lakeview Manor, riding the cart along the roads. The storm moved in on the city behind her, missing them by the sheerest chance that it was coming from a different direction.

She swung by Whiterun for a few last minute supplies; clothing and a doll for the girl before continuing home.

A strange woman stood before the front door of the house, her posture the very picture of casual arrogance. As soon as she was close enough, the bandit locked eyes with the Dragonborn. "The chief wanted me to tell you… Your family was real nice to us while you were gone."

Savari went cold. "What did you do to my husband and daughter?!" It took all of her willpower not to draw a blade and run the woman through.

The bandit's arrogant expression flickered as blue, slitted eyes turned cold and hard, "Relax hero. They're fine. At least, they were. The chief liked them so much, she took them back home. Here's a letter for you."

A single piece of paper was pressed into the Dovakiin's hand. The note was brief and to the point.

"While you were away, we came to visit your lovely new house. Balimund and Sofie made us feel right at home. In fact, we liked them so much, we took them back to Knifepoint Ridge with us.

If you want them back, come see me. Bring 5000 gold and I'll discuss letting them go.

Rochelle the Red"

A throaty growl rumbled in her throat and she crumpled the paper in her fist. There would be no money paid today, nor any other.

She slipped into the house, noting that Rayya was sagged against the wall, looking incredibly battered and bleeding from several wounds. Three dead bandits lay before her

"My Thane, I have failed you," wheezed the Regard woman, pain and shame pulling her face tight.

"Save your strength." Savari lay her hands on the woman and channeled healing magic into her body. "There is no shame in losing to overwhelming odds. By the red of your blades, and the score at your feet, you did your duty well."

"But I could not stop them!" Rayya shoved Savari's hands away and staggered to her feet, swaying. "I swore to lay down my life for you, and I was felled by a blow to the head."

Savari caught the woman as she put a hand to her temple and nearly keeled back over.

"If it means so much to you, then you may accompany me in getting them back. But first, we are going to heal your wounds. You cannot redeem yourself if you drop like a felled tree halfway to Knifepoint Ridge." Savari didn't care about her Housecarl's redemption; as far as she was concerned, the human had done everything she could.

But clearly it was important to Rayya that she make up for her supposed "failure," and she was not going to let the woman spend her days dwelling on it when bathing her blades in bandit blood would do a world more of good.

"Wait," Savari commanded, when Rayya turned toward the door, "I must retrieve something, then we will go. I swear to you, I will not leave you behind."

The Khajiit was skilled in handling things… dark things… things that she did not tell her husband or daughter about… Moving swiftly back to the storeroom, Savari opened a trunk and drew out the Shrouded Armor.

The Steward nodded once in approval as she came out, sliding the last of her chosen weapons into their appropriate places. The pair slipped out the door and into the slowly waning sunlight with grim purpose.

Knifepoint Ridge was a considerable distance away, and the sun had sunk behind the mountains by the time they approached the slope leading up to the appointed place.

"Well, well. You're a lot smarter than I expected. I hope you brought the gold." Smirked the armed woman who swaggered down the path. Two lackeys backed her up.

Savari's eyes blazed with blue fire beneath the cowl. "Money's not going to do you much good after I've killed you."

In a swift, smooth movement, Savari's bow was in her hand and a dragon bone arrow embedded in Rochelle's chest. The woman barely had time to cry out in shock and pain before two more arrows took her down.

The magic in the bow hummed, a frequency mimicked by the Black Soul Gem in the Khajiit's pocket.

Rayya's twin scimitars lashed out, cutting down the two lackeys in a brief dance of death.

The two paused, listening keenly. Silence above, punctuated by a cough, and someone muttering about paying off his reward money. The death of their leader had happened too quickly, and too quietly, for the single cry to raise the alarm. Arrogance. Arrogance and negligence.

 _Do not criticize your enemies for making mistakes that benefit you._ Savari chided herself, as her lips curled upward to bare her teeth.

Trading a silent nod, they flowed up the path into the shadows of the camp, silently dispatching several bandits along the way.

The door to the mine opened on greased hinges and the two melded into the shadows of the mine.

It wasn't very deep, and the pair found themselves looking at a room with three guards wandering around. Her daughter and husband were locked behind bars at the far end of the room.

Savari signaled her plan with a few hand gestures, then went on the move. Sofie's eyes went wide as she caught sight of the cat slipping along the walls behind one of the jailers. A single finger to her lips ensured the little girl's silence.

Balimund was quick to help. "You won't get away with this," he snarled, drawing the bandit's attention away from the faint movements in the shadows.

"Shut up old man. Your wife will either cough up the money, or she'll never see you again. Keep flapping your gums, and I'll start to think that the money is worth less than your blood!" He put his hand on the hilt of his own weapon, glaring.

It was at that point that a hand seized his chin from behind and wrenched his head up. In a swift, deadly move, Savari cut the man's throat and dropped him like a sack of meat.

"What was tha—" The second man gasped as Rayya's blades cut him down before he could finish his sentence.

The third drew his sword, only to be staggered by Savari's thrown dagger, which buried itself in his chest. Rayya and Savari both lunged and cut the stricken man down; one with an ebony sword, one with whirling scimitars.

There was a moment of silence, then the Dragonborn slowly sheathed her bloodied weapons. She would replace the leather and clean the weapons properly at her leisure when they got home. For now, there were more important things.

Pulling out lockpicks, she worked on the door for only a few seconds before the lock clicked and it swung open.

"Mama!" Sofie launched herself out of her prison, wrapping her arms around the Khajiit's bloodstained torso.

Hands that had wielded weapons with deadly precision now folded around the girl tenderly. "Are you both all right?"

"Yes, I'm okay." Sofie looked up at her adopted mother, unaware that the blood on the Shrouded Armor had been transferred to her face, giving a frightening illusion that the girl had been savaged.

"Tsk." Savari knelt down and used a thumb pad to wipe the blood from the girl's face.

Though she had just watched the Khajiit slaughter several armed men in front of her eyes, the little girl didn't flinch away from the gentle ministrations.

"You aren't afraid of what you saw me do?" She asked the girl gently.

The girl shook her head. "I had to kill a wolf the second time I was gathering flowers. And… and a bandit thought he would take me away and... .'get to know me better.' "

Savari's ears plastered themselves against her head in horror.

"But it's okay." Sofie's smile turned grim and a shade too world weary for her years, "He didn't get the chance. I killed him with his own dagger." She looked up and met Savari's blue eyes with an adult's understanding of a hard world, "You did what you had to. And you did it to save us."

"I knew you'd come for us." Balimund stepped forward to embrace his wife warmly. "I'm so glad to see you. Come on, let's get out of here."

"What happened?" Savari fell into step beside the man as Rayya took point to make sure that no one was left to challenge them on the way out.

"Sofie arrived in the afternoon. They came less than an hour later. Followed her, I suspect. I was working the forge and was alerted by Rayya's shout and the clash of blades. I ran out of the basement, only to find a dagger at the girl's throat. They told me if I so much as looked at my weapon, they would do something tragic. After that, they dragged us here and mostly ignored us." Balimund scowled, "Milk drinkers, the lot of them, using a child as a hostage."

Savari closed her eyes and shook her head briefly. "At least they won't be a problem anymore."

"Mama?" The little girl looked up at the Khajiit with solemn eyes, "Will you teach me to fight? I mean, really fight? I don't want to be caught like that ever again."

"I don't want you to either," Balimund agreed, "but they say that before you can wield the blade, you should know how to make one…"

The road back home was filled with plans made the long, cold journey back home a great deal more bearable.

Opening the front door to the manor, however, brought more warmth beneath her fur.

The little girl raced off to the bedroom briefly to check on the trunk at the foot of her bed. Then she raced back, her face alight with joy. "They didn't take anything! This home, it's... it's everything I could have hoped for. I... I know it's not much, but... I've found a few pretty things. They're in the chest in my room. If you see anything you like, please, take it! You've done so much for me. It's... the least I can do."

Savari felt a smile pull at her whiskers, and she accepted the offered gifts, glad to be able to have brought hope for the little girl's future back into her life.

Pausing by a shelf in the bedroom, the Khajiit pulled the Black Soul Gem out of her pocket, glowing with the light of Rochelle's soul, and set it down. "

It was such a small thing, really. But it meant a great deal.

Savari's eyes glittered as she tucked the little girl into her warm bed that night. It meant something special to the Dragonborn too. This small bit of meaning, was what she was going to fight for. Alduin planned to consume the world. Savari now had a very real reason not to let him.

In the darkness, she let a feral grin to lift her lips from her sharp teeth and silently mulled Odahviing's name over in her mind. Tomorrow morning, that great black lizard was going to be in for a surprise.


End file.
